Just a little bit more
by Blondi-Buscus
Summary: (Mavin) Michael gets mixed up with some dealers after a night out, and finds himself addicted. After borrowing money from Gavin, his best friend, multiple times for release, Gavin starts to get worried about where this money is being spent, and where it goes so quickly. So, he drops by his friends' apartment one night, finding him in the midst of a high.


Michael Jones used to be scared of needles, and to be honest, he still is. But sometimes, he just needs the release they offer. Well, not the needles themselves; the liquid inside. It all started one night when he was at one of the many clubs around town. One of the guys he was with pulled him to the side.

"Hey man, havin' fun?" He had asked; his southern accent clear in his voice. Michael had nodded enthusiastically, he usually had fun when out with friends just by being with them, and drinking. Though the music may be a little too loud, and the people a little too sweaty, Michael always enjoyed himself.

"Well, I got something that will make it even better, if you want! Its better then any alcohol I've had." The man had promised. Michael couldn't even remember his name now. He knew he was supposed to 'say no to drugs' and all that, but he had been so smashed at the time, he had no idea what this guy meant.

"Uh, okay, sure! I like having fun!" Michael had replied dumbly, and the guy had led him out of the club, down the street, and into a dank apartment. At this point, it should have clicked in Michaels head what he was getting into; but it just didn't. Maybe it was the adrenaline already pumping through him, or the hazy smoke, but he had just walked right after the man.

"Just in the back here, one second. You're not squeamish around needles, are yah? You're going to need it after this." Michael shook his head, scoffing. It was just a little piece of metal, right? No biggie, he could do this. The man walked back out of the back room with a bag of pills, and a needle that was filled with strange murky liquid. Michael was then led to one of the dank couches, and handed one of the pills. It had a strange design on it, but Michael didn't take too much time looking at it, instead downing it quickly. The next second, he felt heat warming in his body, and felt… giggly. But instead of liking it, he wanted it to get away. He felt like he wanted people to touch him, but hated the thought of it. 'What the hell had this guy given him?!' He had thought at the time. But then, it felt like all trace of thought drifted away from him. The only thing he could remember was suddenly being brought back to the apartment, and injected with the needle.

"Whoa…" Michael said woozily, grasping his head. He felt more relaxed then he had in a long time. "What was that?" He had asked, stumbling over his own words. The guy chuckled, before reaching into Michaels' pocket, and pulling out his wallet.

"I'm just going to need a few bucks for those." At first, Michael was alarmed, but was calmed, leaning back on the couch.

"Whatever man, take all you need. I got plenty…" Michael had replied slowly. Thinking about it, he liked being calm better then whatever the first thing was. The guy grinned, and left Michael sitting on the couch, promising him that he would be back later to check on him. Michael had sat on that couch for what felt like forever when the guy returned with two girls. Michael sat up a little bit straighter on the couch, only to be grabbed by his armpits, and hauled out to the street.

"See yah around, buddy." Was the last thing he heard before the door had been slammed shut. Michael had eventually stumbled home lazily, grinning at random strangers, before he finally put the key in his front door, and was in his apartment; peace and quiet.

The next morning he woke with a feeling of nagging. He needed more, somehow. He groaned, rolling over in bed, and grabbing his phone off the bedside table. Thankfully, he had gotten the guys number last night. Searching through his contacts, he found one he hadn't seen before, and called it.

"Hello?" A man asked groggily on the other end of the line.

"Dude, I need more of that stuff you gave me last night. What even was that?" Michael asked, and heard the other guy sitting up

"It's going to cost you a bit more this time, and I'm not keeping you around my place again." He replied, ignoring Michaels' question. Michael sighed quietly, and grabbed his wallet from the bedside table, looking through the money he had.

"How much?"

"At least fifty for one, and I would suggest stocking up though, who knows when I'll get caught or run out. This is my last batch, and I'm retiring." Michaels' brow crumpled. For some reason, his brain couldn't comprehend the fact that this was illegal, and the guy could run out, or get arrested because of this. He just wanted more. Quickly, they arranged a meeting place and time, and Michael got out of bed, dragging his feet as he walked towards the kitchen. He dropped onto the chair, leaning back. Maybe he could find something to entertain himself until the time that was set for pickup. He pulled out his phone, but his fingers were too jittery to type. So, he moved to the living room, turning on the TV. He tried to sit back, and focus on the plot of whatever was on, but couldn't seem to rein his mind to focus on anything at the moment. His brain didn't seem to think about it possibly being a side effect of the drug. His phone went off for a second, and Michael flinched at the sudden noise, before darting out and grabbing it. He glanced at the screen, seeing a reminder flashing. Right, he had work. He quickly tore off the couch, running around the apartment, grabbing all his things, and then left the house.

"Michael, you're late!" Burnie greeted him at the door, but didn't say anything else besides a warning to try not to. Michael nodded quickly, shifting from left to right, waiting to be let free. Burnie gave him a strange look before moving to the side, allowing Michael to attempt to walk calmly to the office; attempting to a key phrase. When he arrived at the door, it was already open, Gavin and Ray sitting at their own desks. Jack, Geoff, and Ryan were missing though. When Michael entered the room, Gavin turned towards him grinning.

"Michael!" He exclaimed in welcome, as was normal for him. Ray nodded in the doors general direction, focusing on something. Michael hurried to his desk, sitting down. He couldn't stand the waiting. He drummed his fingers against the table impatiently, tapping his feet. When Gavin sent him a weird look, he knew he had to stop.

"I'm going go take a piss." He left the office again quickly at the appointed time, and basically ran to his car. Kara shot him a weird look as he went to leave, but didn't stop him. He needed to figure out how to keep him calm when he didn't have this stuff. Whatever it was, he needed to get off it. He didn't want to get addicted. But maybe it was already too late for that. Michael pushed the thought out of his mind as he parked by the side of the road, attempting to walk calmly towards the nearby alley. He saw a different guy then last night standing there holding a bag, which confused him for a second, but he just walked towards him.

"Hey, are you Michael?" The guy asked, and Michael nodded quickly.

"You got my stuff?" He replied nervously, still tapping his feet. The guy gave him a quick once over, tilting his brow.

"Yeah, give me the money." Michael quickly handed over the money, snatching his bag. The guy seemed weary. Michael must look crazy. Michael ignored what he looked like, and left the alley. A few people on the corner stared at him, and a thought occurred that he should yell at them or something, but he didn't thankfully. His phone buzzed again, causing Michael to jump. He pulled it out of his pocket, looking at the screen; it was a text from Gavin.

"Long piss, huh?"

"Sorry dude, I went to grab something I forgot."

"What?" Shit. How did Michael answer this? Obviously he had his phone, his clothes… His wallet!

"I had forgotten my wallet. I need it for lunch. I got to go now, driving, see you later." This answer had apparently satisfied Gavin, as he didn't get a text back. Though he felt guilty about lying to Gavin, he had to to keep his best friend safe. That was the excuse he told himself. He climbed back into his car, tearing open the bag. A dozen needles slipped out onto his lap. Michael felt adrenaline rushing through him. He needed it; he couldn't handle all the energy surging through him. Picking up on of the needles, he shivered. He hated needles; they were one of his fears. But he craved the liquid inside to much. It would only take a few seconds... Michael felt it going through the skin of his arm, whimpering quietly. It wasn't as bad as he had though, but it still had hurt a bit. When he pushed down the little trigger on the needle, it all melted away. Michael felt calm once more. He drove back to the office, grabbing a sandwich on his way back. He hid the bag under his seat, and walked back into the building, smiling at Kara, before moving on to the Achievement Hunter office.

"Hey idiot, I got you a sandwich too." Michael said, throwing the sandwich onto Gavins' desk. He didn't feel that hungry anymore.

"Thanks Michael!" Gavin said before biting into the sandwich, humming in appreciation. Ray chuckled quietly, turning to Michael.

"Hey, where's mine?" Michael shook his head, leaning back in his chair, and pulling his wallet out, throwing a couple bills at Ray.

"Go buy yourself one then. I'm busy." Ray looked surprised for a second before grabbing the money, and giving back to Michael.

"Do you have a hangover or something?" Michael shook his head.

"Surprisingly enough, no; I'm just in a good mood." Ray seemed suspicious, but went back to whatever he had been doing. Michael hummed a song quietly to himself, smiling. He felt amazing. Everyone else went back to work, Michael leaning back forward, and forcing himself to concentrate. This was just supposed to calm him, he wouldn't get addicted. He had self control. This was medical stuff; maybe not prescribed, but it still worked. He managed to keep up the friendly charade of 'being in a good mood' until it was time to go home. Smiling to himself at his secret, he strolled out to his car, saying his goodbyes. Arriving home, he tucked his bag into his backpack, and walked into the apartment. He could feel some of the effects wearing off as he entered the elevator, and pressed the button. He leaned against the wall, waiting for it to arrive. He just wanted to get home, and play with his new things, clean them up, make them nice and shiny. Shaking his head, he realized how crazy his thought process was at the time, and left the elevator.

"Hi Michael!" He heard a small voice say from somewhere beside him. Glancing down, he spotted the little girl who lived beside him.

"Hi Ashy; how was school today?" He asked calmly, leaning on his door. He had time to talk to Ashy, it's not like his skin was peeling back because of this, and he was still human.

"It was awesome! I went on a field trip to the fire station! It was so cool there; they had a fire pole they let us go down, and big trucks!" Ashy exclaimed as her grandmother poked her head out of the door way, smiling at Michael widely.

"Hello deary, was Ashy bothering you?"

"Of course not, Ashy and I were just having a little talk; she was telling me about her field trip today." Michael said happily, rubbing the top of the girls' head, who smiled up at him.

"Well, Ashy and I have to go now; we're making cookies for tomorrow. Would you like to join us tomorrow for dinner? You know I always end up making too much for Ash and I." Michael agreed that he would try to make it home in time, saying he might have to do over time though. Ashy then left, skipping into the apartment. Michael shifted his bag on his back, going into his own apartment, and locking the door behind him before emptying the bag. The bag of needles fell onto the table, and Michael grabbed them, sorting through them, counting how many there were. If he only took one a day, he had about a half a months worth. That should be more then enough for his body to start calming down his mind, right? Then he would just stop.

That's what he promised himself.


End file.
